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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25632022">Set All My Regrets on Fire</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avery_Kedavra/pseuds/Avery_Kedavra'>Avery_Kedavra</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sanders Sides (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, But they don't appear, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Angst, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Needs a Hug, Crying, Deceit | Janus Sanders Angst, Deceit | Janus Sanders Needs a Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fire, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Patton is mentioned, Post-Episode: Putting Others First - Selfishness v. Selflessness Redux | Sanders Sides, Self-Hatred, So are logan virgil thomas and remus, Sympathetic Deceit | Janus Sanders, identity crisis, roceit angst, very brief though</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:27:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,735</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25632022</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avery_Kedavra/pseuds/Avery_Kedavra</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Roman wants to apologize. Janus wants to explain. It’s a shame neither of them can work up the courage to say hello.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders &amp; Deceit | Janus Sanders</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>200</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Set All My Regrets on Fire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Anyone up for some post-POF Roceit angst? I’m way late to the party, but hey, let’s do this. This is for a WTIYS by @hitmewiththatfanart33, who’s a great writer and seems like a really nice person. Check ‘em out if you haven’t already! Congrats on 1k, you deserve it!</p>
<p>This is based around Out on the Town by Fun, a banging song, and I played it on loop while writing this!</p>
<p>(Find me on Tumblr at @averykedavra.)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>—</p>
<p>
  <em>I knew there would come a day when all was said and done.</em>
</p>
<p>Roman is standing in front of Janus’ door.</p>
<p>It’s a nice door, rather simplistic, with a golden doorknob and a little knocker in the center and a peephole set right below it. Roman’s carefully avoiding the peephole, but if Janus tried hard enough, he could probably see Roman standing in the hallway like he’s waiting for a coffee.</p>
<p>Maybe he wouldn’t recognize Roman, though. Roman isn’t wearing his usual costume. He needed something soft and comfortable, so he stole Virgil’s old hoodie. It’s a darker color scheme than he’s used to, but not too bad, and it settles around his shoulders and makes him feel protected. He’d worry about being teased by Virgil, but Virgil hasn’t come out of his room for days.</p>
<p>Roman pulls it tighter around him. If he closes his eyes, it’s almost like he’s getting a hug, or he’s weighed down by blankets during a sleepover, Disney playing in the background as he does Patton’s nails.</p>
<p>That hasn’t happened for weeks. Janus has watched movies with Patton and nobody else came. Roman lurked in the doorway before turning away, retreating to his empty room and a too-dark hoodie.</p>
<p>A little voice in his head says, <em>you should get used to the dark.</em></p>
<p>Roman ignores it. He’s good at that, ignoring anything he doesn’t like. Logan, for instance. Or the flaws in his own ideas. Or Janus’ biting words.</p>
<p>Well, that last one has evaded him. They flit around his head like fiery butterflies, searing away his thoughts, whispering when he tried to sleep.</p>
<p>That’s why he’s here.</p>
<p>Standing in front of Janus’ door, one hand raised, trying to work up the courage to knock.</p>
<p>He <em>is</em> courage. He’s a Gryffindor, bold and brave and passionate. So why can’t he make his hand fall? The whole world has frozen around him, waiting in expectation, eyes crawling up his spine. He’s always loved the stage. He always bears the burden of being the center of the attention. Now he feels exposed, wrong, a glossy photo cut from a magazine and pasted into this scene. He scuffs his feet on the floor and hopes no one walks by at this moment and sees how ridiculously pathetic Roman is being. There’s a slim chance of that. Virgil’s in his room, Logan’s in his room, Patton’s in the kitchen baking mounds of cookies and smiling a brittle smile at anyone who enters. Maybe Remus will show up and knock Roman out again. Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad–it would be an excuse not to talk to Janus.</p>
<p>He tries to picture Janus’ reaction. Maybe Janus will ignore his knock. Maybe Janus will attack him, berate him, tell him he’s not welcome here. He hasn’t been hostile towards Roman whenever they cross paths, but he hasn’t been kind, either. Mostly he’s just ignored Roman. Roman’s done his best to return the favor, skipping family dinners and staying in his room. At first Patton tried to get him out, but Patton must have given up, because the knocks stopped coming.</p>
<p>Worse, Janus might pity him. He certainly looks a mess, standing in the hallway in his best friend’s hoodie, hair greasy and falling over his face. Janus might forgive him more easily if Roman looked pathetic. However, the very idea stings. He doesn’t want reluctant or guilty forgiveness–he wants the real thing. And isn’t that so selfish of him?</p>
<p>He could fix everything, of course. He could snap his fingers and get rid of the hoodie, sweep his hair back from his face, rub away the bags under his eyes from several sleepless nights, rub the wrinkles from his black shirt. But that wouldn’t erase the fact that he’s forgotten how to smile.</p>
<p>It’s easy. It should be easy. He’s practiced it in the mirror a thousand times. Crinkle the eyes, lift the corners of the mouth, scrunch the nose, pull the smile tight until it tickles his cheeks. He’s an actor. He should be able to look like he’s happy to be here, look like he’s happy at all, yet he can’t find the right combination. He tries to smile and it feels too stretched, too forced, too disjointed. He lets it fall because he doesn’t think he could bear to let it exist a moment more.</p>
<p>Janus isn’t the only liar here, is he?</p>
<p>It’s just one smile, he tells himself, trying again. This time he barely manages to lift the corners of his mouth before he lets his face collapse.</p>
<p>And he’s supposed to be an actor. Pathetic.</p>
<p>Roman rubs his face and clutches the jacket for warmth. He should give it back to Virgil. Virgil doesn’t wear it anymore, but he tends to panic whenever something isn’t in its place. Yeah, he’ll go give it to Virgil, leave it in a bundle by the door or just sneak it back into the closet. He can conjure his own jacket. Even though it won’t feel the same, won’t have the same comforting weight, like Virgil has his back.</p>
<p>He’s really a mess right now. His lips are cracked and he won’t stop curling into himself like he wants to disappear.</p>
<p>Maybe he does, just a bit.</p>
<p>Roman sighs and turns away from Janus’ door.</p>
<p>He’ll come back when he looks the part.</p>
<p>—</p>
<p>
  <em>Everything I was is everything but gone.</em>
</p>
<p>Janus is standing in front of Roman’s door.</p>
<p>If he’s being honest–which is a hilarious concept–it’s a little too gaudy for his tastes. He’s all about tasteful theatrics and dramatic decor, but this is so over-the-top it’s almost sad. Still, he supposes he can appreciate the effort put into it. Years of effort, in fact. It’s practically a mural of different designs. Roman clearly kept painting over sections when he had a new idea, never bothering to erase the whole thing. There’s also an excessive amount of glitter and enough rainbows to make a leprechaun faint in delight. A large sign reads <em>Prince Roman, Creativity</em> in red sparkling cursive.</p>
<p>It looks like a five-year-old made it, which is the sort of charitable assumption Janus feels he should keep to himself, based on Patton’s advice. It might “hurt Roman’s feelings.” And if he only manages to antagonize Roman, then this entire trip was a waste.</p>
<p>He doesn’t want to be here, of course. He would much rather be reading, or looking after his snakes, or perhaps planning the downfall of society at large. Or…maybe with Patton, baking cookies or watching movies or exchanging puns as they pass.</p>
<p>Hanging out with Patton. As if they’re friends. Despicable. Friendship is a boogeyman, affection is a social construct, and Janus has no use for it.</p>
<p>He told this to Patton, who laughed and said “You’re so silly! Can you grab my oven mitts?” And Janus did, because lulling Patton into a false sense of security meant his master plan could go undetected. He’s not quite sure what his master plan is, yet, but he’s sure he has one. He’s certainly not spending time with Patton for the fun of it.</p>
<p>Definitely not.</p>
<p>Lying to himself is harder than lying to other people, which is annoying. He supposes that deceiving himself would compromise his ability to deceive others. He needs to know the truth, deep within him, so he can obscure it and twist it and use it as he sees fit.</p>
<p>It’s the others who enjoy lying to themselves.</p>
<p>He should be proud of that, that despite their self-proclaimed hatred for Deceit, they lie to each other and themselves every day. He’s not. It stings how much they lie, it eats into his skin and burns. Logan says everyone lies. Well, that’s a paraphrasing, but that was the gist of it. Patton never liked to hear that. Patton still doesn’t, but that’s not an issue anymore, since Logan hasn’t been there to say anything.</p>
<p>It’s Janus’ fault, of course, and it was a necessary sacrifice to get Thomas to listen. He doesn’t mind if Logan hates him. Logan is Logic–he’ll come around He’s always been the smartest of the sides.</p>
<p>Roman, however, keeps grudges.</p>
<p>So Janus is here to ask for forgiveness. Or at least to explain what he meant, why he did what he did. Then Roman can start rejoining the group at dinner, Thomas’ creative pursuits will regain their spark, and Thomas will be alright.</p>
<p>That’s all Janus needs. Janus is self-preservation. He’s only here, standing awkwardly in front of Roman’s door, because Thomas is suffering and his function is to help Thomas.</p>
<p>If Roman hates him, that’s perfectly fine. He just needs Roman to hate him and keep doing his job.</p>
<p>Janus wishes so deeply that he was better at lying to himself.</p>
<p>He stands there, hand raised, poised to knock, for a frankly embarrassing length of time. He’s not sure what’s stopping him. His chest itches and his eyes burn slightly as if the golden glitter of Roman’s door is blinding him.</p>
<p>“Janus?” he hears. “Do you wanna watch Winnie the Pooh?”</p>
<p>“Of course, Patton.” Janus glances at Roman’s door and gladly twirls his cloak and walks away.</p>
<p>He’ll come back when Patton doesn’t need him.</p>
<p>—</p>
<p>
  <em>All my big mistakes are bouncing off your wall.</em>
</p>
<p>Roman is standing in front of Janus’ door.</p>
<p>He shouldn’t be here. He knows that. He’s got two deadlines in the next week, one after that, and he missed a brainstorming session with Logan and Logan’s been badgering him about it. Besides, he didn’t hit the word count for the story he’s writing, and he has to squeeze in some more writing tonight. Long story short, he has much more important things to do than loiter in front of Janus’ door and watch it like it’ll knock for him.</p>
<p>Yet he’s here. Self-control has never been his strong point.</p>
<p>Besides, he’s almost glad of the change of scenery. His room is a magical place filled with ideas and inspiration and lights that dance around the ceiling like fairies or birds. It’s also a mess, the bedsheets half pulled off the bed, pillows strewn about the floor, candles burned low, Spotify playing a million Disney medleys that blend together in his ears, his desk covered in papers with slowly deteriorating handwriting and unfinished stories and reminders of things he knows he’ll never get around to.</p>
<p>This hallway is blank and empty with a gray carpet and a slightly different shade of gray for the walls. But it isn’t filled with his own scratchy words, taunting him for his failure, the grandfather clock skipping around as time seems to scrunch up and speed past like it’s falling in dollops down his windows.</p>
<p>When’s the last time he even left his room? He can’t remember.</p>
<p>He really should be working.</p>
<p>He lets his hand fall to his side, picks it up, and hovers over the knocker.</p>
<p>Roman can’t bring himself to knock.</p>
<p>His eyes itch. He’s tired. He should be sleeping, but he doesn’t feel like it. He knows he can’t. Not until he’s wrung out every last idea, scribbled his way to the finish of each story, made something that’s crappy and unrealistic and vapid but something. He’ll settle for a terrible idea that Logan will tear into the next day, as long as it’s an idea, something coherent from the snarled mess that’s inside his head.</p>
<p>He’ll feel better if he eats or sleeps or just takes a break. The voice that tells him that sounds like Logan and Patton. But he doesn’t have time. There’s never enough time. His mind runs ahead of his mouth runs ahead of his hands runs ahead of the clock that ticks steadily in his room, reminding him that time is running out, that his days are numbered and soon he’ll shatter and fail and crumple to the ground and still, it will never be enough.</p>
<p>He needs to go work.</p>
<p>Why won’t his legs move?</p>
<p>Why does he insist on standing here, one arm raised, frozen in limbo?</p>
<p>He needs to work or they’ll all hate him.</p>
<p>Usually, that gets him moving. Today it barely stings. Of course they’ll all hate him. They’ll hate him no matter whether his ideas are complete or not. The only person he creates for is Thomas, and Thomas doesn’t care.</p>
<p>Sometimes deadlines keep him going. Sometimes passion keeps him going. Sometimes validation keeps him going. He has a lot of the first one and none of the last two. His mind is empty at the bottom and leaking from the side. His joints and limbs are mismatched like a doll’s, and he feels out of control of all of them, like he’s just a character in someone else’s story.</p>
<p>He really needs to go work.</p>
<p>Janus can wait.</p>
<p>Janus probably isn’t even awake–it’s sometime past midnight. Or maybe it isn’t midnight yet. Roman can’t quite remember and doesn’t really care about the difference. He’s wearing bunny slippers and has several ink stains on his fingers and probably looks as exhausted as he feels. He shouldn’t be here. He’d just been thinking too much in his room, and he figured if he could finally see Janus, his thoughts would finally shut up and let him work.</p>
<p>Pathetic, he tells himself, and tries to make that be enough to turn away. It should be enough. Fear and panic have always kept him going before. The one thing that gets in the way of any great adventure isn’t fear–fear is what pushes him to rehearse, keeps his mouth shut, helps him scramble to reach a deadline. What gets in his way is apathy. The sick, cotton-filled nights where he’d much rather close his eyes and sink into the hole in his chest than write another word.</p>
<p>He’ll get through it. He always has.</p>
<p>He doesn’t have another choice.</p>
<p>Roman wrenches himself back into his body and walks down the hallway, each step hesitant and disjointed, his mind buzzing and still at the same time.</p>
<p>He’ll come back when he isn’t so busy.</p>
<p>—</p>
<p>
  <em>The bottles never break, the sorrow never comes.</em>
</p>
<p>Janus is standing in front of Roman’s door.</p>
<p>It’s late. He’s already had dinner and really should be sleeping, since Logan always says to sleep at ten o’clock and Janus can’t argue with self-care. However, he knows that Roman is up. There’s a small light under the door, flickering, and he knows it’s a candle. At first he was scared it was a fire, but that was just instinctive after dealing with the other Creativity for so long. The burning is controlled and flickers on and off. Occasionally shadows shift and Janus steps back instinctively.</p>
<p>Roman does not open the door.</p>
<p>Good, Janus thinks, although he has to admit he’s disappointed at the same time. Perhaps it would be easier if Roman opened the door. Roman would have questions, surely, but it would rid Janus of the obligation to knock.</p>
<p>He is far too tired to knock. He’s practically leaning on the wall. He should go to bed.</p>
<p>He doesn’t want to go to bed. Not yet.</p>
<p>It’s been a long day. Thomas is struggling with the most recent video idea. Remus has become even more manic and disruptive than usual. Patton is sad, Logan is angry, and Virgil is nowhere to be found.</p>
<p>Of course it’s Janus who has to put the pieces back together and calm everyone down. He’s the self-preservation side. He’s the only one somewhat sturdy after that disaster of an episode.</p>
<p>Still, it’s rather tiresome, he has to admit. This is why he doesn’t help people. You do it once, and suddenly everyone has expectations. Suddenly you’re cast in the role of the Good Guy when Janus has always been comfortable on the other side of the battlefield.</p>
<p>But there’s no time for shoulds and shouldn’ts, doubts and worries, the question of whether he deserves this or not–he has a job to do. The world is collapsing, Thomas is struggling, so Janus will tie rope around all the sides’ wrists and puppet them back into position. An unsavory metaphor but an accurate one. He is not their friend, sitting with them until they calm down. He is just playing a part. He’s been called on to steady the ship, and he will do that, because that is his job.</p>
<p>He is not their friend. He only lets them call him that because it gets him what he wants.</p>
<p>That is just how things are, and nothing can change that.</p>
<p>He could leave them behind entirely and go back to how things were. He’s thought about that more than once. He could crawl back into the darkness and lie on a messy couch and watch Good Omens and laugh whenever he hears a white lie. However, things have changed, for better or for worse. Regrets and would-have-beens are other things Janus is not built for, cannot allow. The truth is that the past is the past. He cannot rewrite the story, only play his part to perfection, a hollow face with a useless name and a meaningless place among the sides he barely cares for.</p>
<p>He’s tired. He wants to go to sleep.</p>
<p>But Deceit cannot sleep when he still needs to glue in the cracks.</p>
<p>And he knows Roman should be on his list of Ridiculous Idiots to Help. He knows he should be talking to Roman right now. He knows it’s his job to check in on Roman, who has been more frazzled and angry every time Janus sees him, barely noticing when Patton says hello.</p>
<p>Roman might not want to see him.</p>
<p>And Janus really wants to sleep.</p>
<p>It’s a coward’s move to turn away from the door. But it’s what Janus does, because Janus is self-preservation and cowardly and selfish and that is what he is. It is all he is ever going to be. Pull off his gloves and scrape beneath his scales, and there is nothing there at all, nothing but a name and a title and an ever-shifting voice.</p>
<p>He can imitate any side he likes, help any side he wants, and hurt any side he chooses. Whenever his own desires and emotions get in the way, it only ends in turmoil and trouble and hurt.</p>
<p>He shouldn’t have even shared his name. Not because of Roman’s response, but because now everyone believes he’s their friend, a person in his own right, someone they’re capable of getting to know.</p>
<p>It’s Janus’ greatest lie, and it’s the one he hates the most.</p>
<p>He wants to sleep.</p>
<p>Janus is not in the mood to play pretend with Roman, to bait him into forgiveness, to pacify him with lies. Janus is in the mood to snap back. To bare his teeth and poke at weak spots and say whatever it takes for him to be left alone. He’s bubbling up with emotion and his walls are turning to swords. He can’t talk to Roman like this unless he wants Roman to stab him through the heart.</p>
<p>Janus groans and kicks angrily at the wall. It hurts. He enjoys the sensation of doing something other than sitting still and playing nice.</p>
<p>He’s going to go sleep.</p>
<p>He’ll come back when he’s less tired.</p>
<p>—</p>
<p>
  <em>So come on, let me in.</em>
</p>
<p>Roman is standing at Janus’ door.</p>
<p>He wrote a letter this time. It took him an embarrassing number of drafts to get it, and he’s still not entirely happy with it, and he’s pretty sure he misspelled something in the third paragraph. He’d ask Logan for help, but Logan’s been prickly ever since Janus replaced him–and they were never on the best of terms to begin with. Logan, Roman is pretty sure, would gladly exchange him for another Creativity.</p>
<p>It stings in the way that only the truth does.</p>
<p>His letter is crumpled in his hand. He could simply slip it under the door and disappear. But he feels the urge to explain it, apologize for it, try to say something for himself instead of hiding behind shields of sentences. If only he could figure out what to say.</p>
<p>The letter is simple. It’s an apology and a request to try and work together. Roman ended up going for a short and sweet letter, even though it goes against all his instincts. Being extra like Roman usually is might not be the best idea. Being <em>Roman</em> might not be the best idea. If he wants to convince Janus that he’s not a bad guy, he should act like a little less of a self-centered, impulsive, cruel side with no tact and intelligence.</p>
<p>Wait. Why is this about convincing Janus that he’s not a bad guy? This is about apologizing. All Roman needs to do is apologize. It didn’t matter if Janus thinks he’s the bad twin–Janus has a point, after all.</p>
<p>Roman shakes his head. He shouldn’t be focused on what Janus said. They were just words and he could handle them. He’s the one that needs to apologize. Then Janus could forgive him and things could go back to normal–</p>
<p>Wait.</p>
<p>Was <em>that</em> why he was apologizing? Because it gets him what he wants?</p>
<p>Roman swallows and backs away from the door, letter limp in his hand. No. That can’t be right. He’s guilty. Some days he feels the guilt might tear him apart at the seams, rip through his blood vessels, curl around his heart and strangle his lungs until there’s nothing left but ash.</p>
<p>That’s a very Remus thought.</p>
<p>Roman shakes his head violently but it can’t dislodge the voice in his head. Evil twin.</p>
<p>This doesn’t matter! He doesn’t need to think about this. He can just drop off the letter for Janus and be on his way. He doesn’t need to try and apologize, or ask Janus what he meant by evil, or ask if Janus wants to replace him or if he’s already trying or if everyone’s decided Roman is worthless and needs to be replaced. He’s heard nothing about that, but he’s been in his room. For all he knows, Janus could be ousting him from his spot.</p>
<p>That should make him furious. Why doesn’t it make him furious? Where’s that burning passion that always gets him into trouble?</p>
<p>Is it because Janus is right?</p>
<p>Roman squeezes his eyes shut. He can’t cry. He needs to knock on Janus’ door and hand him the letter. He doesn’t even have to say anything. The letter–the stupid, poorly-written, not-enough-to-take-back-everything letter–can do the talking for him.</p>
<p>He could say he’s sorry. He could say, why did you say what you said? He could say, are you the bad guy? He could say, am I?</p>
<p>He could say a million things. None of them would give him the right answers and none of them would be enough to fix things.</p>
<p>All he has is one stupid letter.</p>
<p>Roman leaves it on the ground by Janus’ door and walks away,</p>
<p>Ten minutes later, he walks back over. The letter is still there. Roman grabs it and rips it into pieces. It spirals around his feet like confetti. He snaps his fingers and the little pieces burst into flames and blacken, crumbling to bits of ash. He kicks the ash into the corners of the hallway and walks away, hands clenched, chin high.</p>
<p>He’ll come back when he thinks of what to say.</p>
<p>—</p>
<p>
  <em>I will be the sun.</em>
</p>
<p>Janus is standing in front of Roman’s door.</p>
<p>He knows Roman has been nearby. Janus’ hallway now smells like smoke. It could be Remus, of course, but Remus wouldn’t light a fire without making a big deal out of it. So Roman lit something on fire in front of his door, whatever that means.</p>
<p>Janus doesn’t know why that makes him feel worried.</p>
<p>He’s here to confront Roman about the fire, nothing else. It should be in and out. “Hello, Roman, might I inquire why you burned something in front of my door? And could you tell me how to get rid of the smell? It would be very kind of you.”</p>
<p>Of course, Janus’ hands have to betray him, and he’s stuck hovering around Roman’s door as if it’s shielded from him. He summons another hand, then another, then all of them. They all curl their fists and rise up to meet the door. None of them fall. None of them make a sound.</p>
<p>Janus almost hisses in frustration. Why is this so hard? What is he so <em>afraid</em> of?</p>
<p>He’s not supposed to be afraid. He’s <em>Deceit</em>. He’s faced down the worst parts of Thomas’ psyche. He’s tamed wild monsters in the Subconscious, gone toe-to-toe with Remus, dealt with Virgil when he was wild and fiery and didn’t know how to stop fighting. He holds the key to every secret Thomas has ever possessed. He doesn’t get scared.</p>
<p>And yet, a simple closed door is enough to bring him down.</p>
<p><em>Pathetic</em>, he thinks. Then he catches himself. Negative self-talk is unhealthy. Even though it seems to be everywhere these days, his mind falling into old habits and ruts he didn’t know existed, slipping and sliding down a slope until he’s left spiraling and wondering if he’ll ever be able to fix things, if he’ll ever be more than a liar, if being Janus means anything at all or if he’s just fooling himself into believing he could ever have a family–</p>
<p>Janus clenches his fists. Not the time. He needs to talk to Roman.</p>
<p>And say what? <em>Roman, I’m sorry. Roman, don’t hate me. Roman, you’re affecting Thomas. Roman, Patton is worried for you. Roman, I’m worried for you.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>Roman, why did you light a fire outside my room?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Roman, why did it take so little work to break you?</em>
</p>
<p>He hadn’t even meant to. He always aims to protect Creativity, and well-placed flattery was the best tactic to lure Roman out of Patton’s grasp. He didn’t count on the insecurities beneath the surface that burst into being the moment Roman saw himself as a failure. They were just compliments. It was just a little manipulation. He hadn’t meant to–hadn’t meant to make Roman cry.</p>
<p>Some grand puppet master, hurting the one person he needed on his side.</p>
<p>This is why he can’t be trusted. This is why he isn’t meant up here in the light side. He isn’t good and pure. All he does is destroy things, people, dreams. He should have learned his lesson from Virgil. Instead, he jumped in where he wasn’t wanted and miscalculated the landing, and now Creativity is sulking with the door closed.</p>
<p>Creativity is broken.</p>
<p>Maybe he’s always been–maybe it just took Janus to throw all the fractures into the light.</p>
<p>Janus is good at unearthing secrets. He’s less good at dealing with the messy aftermath. Yet here he is, struggling to knock on a door, running through every word in his head. He is a master of deception, the lord of the lies, a silver-tongued trickster who could slip into skins and play any part he wishes. Yet he runs dry when thinking of what to say to Roman. There is nothing he <em>can</em> say.</p>
<p>Roman is only feet away, but so far beyond Janus’ reach.</p>
<p>Janus leans against the wall, two arms hugging himself, one hand reaching up to grab a fistful of hair, another covering his mouth. His final two still hover over Roman’s door, but Janus might as well have lost control of them entirely, since they refuse to knock.</p>
<p>Maybe that’s a good thing. Roman would surely take well to Janus’ interruption. And Janus doesn’t feel like being mocked for the state he is in–reduced to shudders, holding back tears, as if he has a right to be upset. As if he should <em>be</em> upset. He needs to pull himself together. He’s better than this.</p>
<p>Janus tightens his hand over his mouth. He can barely breathe. Was that what it felt like when he did the same to Logan? To Roman, to Patton, to Virgil? His gloves are soft and rough at the same time. Janus remembers taking one off, holding his hand up, feeling so exposed. He let down all his barriers–and he should have <em>known</em> that would backfire, he was Deceit, he wasn’t meant for truth and openness and friendship. He’d let his guard down and he’d gotten hurt.</p>
<p>Of course, it didn’t hurt him. At all.</p>
<p>
  <em>Hello, Roman. Sorry about tearing into your insecurities and everything, but could you please apologize for making fun of my name?</em>
</p>
<p><em>Pathetic</em>, Janus thinks again, and this time he doesn’t bother to stop himself. He is pathetic and a mess and about three seconds away from crying in front of Roman’s door.</p>
<p>Janus sighs and turns away, vanishing his extra arms into his cloak, leaving Roman’s door behind him. He supposes he’ll never know about the fire. He supposes it doesn’t really matter at all.</p>
<p>He’ll come back when he thinks of what to say.</p>
<p>—</p>
<p>
  <em>I will wake you up.</em>
</p>
<p>Roman is standing in front of Janus’ door.</p>
<p>He’s angry. Perhaps more furious than he should be, under the circumstances, but he kind of enjoys the way the anger sparks in his chest. It makes him feel more awake and in control than he has for months.</p>
<p>He’s not even sure what he’s angry at. It could be anything. The obvious answer is the fun little exchange he had with Thomas this morning–Thomas wants to bring Remus into more of their discussions. Thomas wants to “explore different directions in his content.” Thomas wants the other twin.</p>
<p>Thomas swears he wants Roman there, too, but Roman sees what this is really about. This is the beginning. This is how it starts–one word, one offer to join in movie nights, and soon Remus will be taking his place. Roman will be ousted from his seat at the table and be thrown into the darker side of Thomas’ mind. Forgotten, ignored, hated.</p>
<p>He’s known this was coming. He knows he deserves it.</p>
<p>But to actually hear it from Thomas himself–it stings. It aches and claws at him until he turns to anger, because anger is safe and anger allows him to find someone else to blame. Or maybe he didn’t choose anger. Maybe anger just came of its own accord, because emotions don’t always make sense, and Logan does always call Roman irrational.</p>
<p>He’s standing in front of Janus’ door and has the urge to pummel it to the ground.</p>
<p>Stupid Janus. Sneaky snake. Slimy boy. A two-faced trickster with a silver tongue and silly gloves. Why had Roman even considered apologizing to him? Janus doesn’t deserve it. He hasn’t–he hasn’t even tried to talk to Roman after everything. He’s just let Roman sit in his misery forever.</p>
<p>Maybe Roman doesn’t deserve an apology, but he’d sure as hell <em>like</em> one.</p>
<p>Maybe he’ll apologize too. Or maybe not. Maybe he’ll leave Janus hanging, unsure of their position, struggling to get a grasp on whether Roman is serious or lying or hates Janus or hates himself or just wants some peace and quiet. Maybe he’ll make Janus confused, like Roman is every single day, and he can finally see Janus’ face when his insufferable righteous in-control expression falls away.</p>
<p>He’ll see the Janus behind the mask.</p>
<p>And maybe everything will make sense then. Maybe nothing will. Maybe Roman’s just grasping at straws, clawing at the sides of the hole he’s falling into, desperately reaching for anything that will keep him from </p>
<p>He’s wearing his prince costume. It feels wrong and itchy around his shoulders. Too square, too gaudy, too ridiculously heroic. He got black ink stained on the shirt yesterday and panicked because he thought the Mindscape was turning him evil already. He should have known. Evil is a choice, in the end, and soon Roman will have to make that choice. Let himself fall, for the good of everyone, and learn what it’s like on the dark side.</p>
<p>Broadway, here he comes.</p>
<p>Still. Not yet. Roman has always been irritatingly persistent. And he needs to talk to Janus. Yell at Janus. Shake Janus until he gets answers to every question in his head. He doesn’t know what he’ll ask, but hopefully Janus will know, because Janus knows Roman better than Roman knows himself.</p>
<p>Roman raises his hand to knock on the door.</p>
<p>He taps quietly, once, twice.</p>
<p>The door creaks open.</p>
<p>Roman steps forward and looks into the room. It’s empty and still. There’s a surprising amount of dust on every surface. Books line the walls, almost more books than Logan’s room, and there’s a record player by an armchair, and some small lamps that glow the same shade as Janus’ eyes. His bed is old and mahogany and the sheets are rumpled.</p>
<p>Janus must be out, then. Perhaps talking with Remus or arguing with Virgil or debating with Logan or baking with Patton. Maybe he’s talking to Thomas, thinking through how they’ll break the news to Roman that he’s useless, that they’ve decided to lock him in his room and shove him into the back of the mind where he can’t mess up anything else.</p>
<p>The thought is burning and furious and climbs up Roman’s throat. His hand goes to his sword. He looks around at the room, dim and serene.</p>
<p>He could destroy it, if he wanted. He could tear it to pieces. He could burn the books on the walls, slice through the carpet on the floor, throw the record player against the wall and watch it break in two. He could open up the floorboards and read through the books and check under the bed and try to find something that tells him more about Janus, that’s something real and tangible beneath a million layers of deception.</p>
<p>He could. He wants to. He wants to so badly, and this is why he never gives himself what he wants, because desire is a sickening sensation that scares him.</p>
<p>He could destroy everything.</p>
<p>He is Creativity–he is meant to create. But if his title means nothing, what’s wrong with using the other side of the coin?</p>
<p>He could burn this place to the ground.</p>
<p>Everything is so still and perfect. It’s all waiting for Janus. Roman can almost picture him curled up in that recliner, reading a book, humming along to a song on the record player. His hair falling over his face, his capelet messed up, his eyes half-closed.</p>
<p>It’s a beautiful room. Elegant and refined. He should have expected nothing less.</p>
<p>It seems wrong for Roman to destroy it.</p>
<p>Right and wrong have gotten him in trouble before. He’s no authority on the subject. He is wrong. All he does is wrong. That’s what Patton thinks, he’s sure of it, and that’s what Thomas thinks. That’s what Janus thinks. Deep down, it’s what Roman thinks, too.</p>
<p>He is not going to add one more mistake to his tally. He is already falling–there’s no need to tug anyone down with him.</p>
<p>Roman steps out and closes the door.</p>
<p>He’ll come back when Janus is there.</p>
<p>—</p>
<p>
  <em>I am who I was.</em>
</p>
<p>Janus is standing in front of Roman’s door.</p>
<p>He vowed to only come back when he thought of what to say. However, he’s already breaking that promise. He’s in this accursed hallway again, lurking in the shadows like the villain he is, eyeing the door and wondering if it’ll spring open of its own accord.</p>
<p>He shouldn’t be here, of course, but his mind won’t leave him alone.</p>
<p>He wishes Roman would just talk to <em>him</em> and make things simple. But Roman appears to have no interest in communication. Roman has been avoiding him, cutting him off, slipping out of every room Janus enters. It would be irritating–it <em>is</em> irritating–but Janus is more concerned than irritated.</p>
<p>That, in itself, is irritating. He shouldn’t be so worried about Roman. He should be furious with the side, not appearing at his door once again, preparing to apologize when he’s received nothing of the sort in return.</p>
<p>He should just leave Roman alone.</p>
<p>But he’s worried.</p>
<p>Maybe he should just shelve the apologies for now. Maybe he should simply knock on Roman’s door and see if he’s okay.</p>
<p>That sounds like a better plan than stammering through apologies he’s not sure if he means, throwing away every mote of dignity he has left, shattering every wall he’d work so hard to build.</p>
<p>Janus raises his hand to knock on the door.</p>
<p>The door bursts open.</p>
<p>Janus stumbles backwards, tripping over his feet and barely managing to steady himself, trying to look like he was just walking past and not standing in front of Roman’s door like a stalker.</p>
<p>It must not work, because Roman scowls deeply and asks “What are you doing?”</p>
<p>“I…” Janus pulls his capelet tighter around him and tries not to panic. “I wanted to talk to you.”</p>
<p>“Make it quick,” Roman says. His eyes are red and there’s a smear of ink down his cheek. Janus has the urge to reach out and wipe it off.</p>
<p>“I was worried,” Janus finally says. “I <em>am</em> worried.”</p>
<p>“About what?” Roman asks.</p>
<p>“You.”</p>
<p>That gets Janus an even darker glare.</p>
<p>“Everything’s under control,” Roman spits out. “No thanks to you.”</p>
<p>“Are you sure?” Janus finds himself asking. “You’ve been–”</p>
<p>“I’ve been what?” Roman’s lip curls. “I’m doing <em>fine</em>. I’m doing my <em>job</em>. I have so many ideas, you wouldn’t believe. If there’s a problem with what I create, it’s because you won’t leave me alone.”</p>
<p>“That’s not what I–” Janus swallows. “I’m not concerned with your output.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, ‘cause you’ve already decided it’s not worth anything.” Roman looks Janus up and down. “Still wearing that? Thought you’d get a wardrobe change now that you’re officially one of the <em>good guys</em>.”</p>
<p>“I like this,” Janus says weakly.</p>
<p>“Don’t see why you do. It looks like a curtain swallowed you whole.”</p>
<p>Bile rises up in Janus’ throat. “And you certainly look like the pinnacle of fashion,” he snaps back before he can stop himself. “You’re giving Virgil a run for his money with those eye bags. I thought princes were supposed to be poised.”</p>
<p>He seems to have hit a nerve, because Roman’s eyes flame. There’s no other word for it. They snap and crackle like a bonfire.</p>
<p>“What are you still doing here?” Roman grits out. “I’m busy.”</p>
<p>“Like I said, I’m worried.” Janus holds up his hands. “But clearly, I shouldn’t bother.”</p>
<p>“No, you shouldn’t!” It’s almost a scream. “I don’t <em>need</em> you here! I’m doing <em>fine!”</em></p>
<p>“You do know who you’re trying to lie to, right?”</p>
<p>“Yes, I do.” Roman sneers. “<em>Deceit</em>. I know <em>exactly</em> what you are. And you will <em>never</em> take my place, understand me? I am <em>never</em> going to be a villain. I know you want to oust me, but you’re powerless. You’re a two-faced trickster with a million lies who doesn’t care about anything, and I’m Thomas’ <em>Creativity</em>. You go up against me, and I will win every time.”</p>
<p>“Is that a threat?” Janus asks, his mind whirling.</p>
<p>“It’s going to be if you don’t leave.”</p>
<p>“Look, listen–” Janus spreads his hands. “I’m just trying to help, no one is replacing anyone, if you’d just <em>listen</em> to me for once in your life–”</p>
<p>“I <em>listened</em> to you and that’s why I’m <em>here</em>.” Roman waves a hand. “I’m done hearing what you have to say. Leave me alone.”</p>
<p>“But–”</p>
<p>“<em>Leave!”</em></p>
<p>Roman slams his door loud enough to rattle the walls.</p>
<p>Janus is left standing there, part of him knowing that he probably caught Roman at a bad time, but his chest squeezing despite of that. He shakes his head and tries to think on the bright side. He’s gotten his answer. Roman wants nothing to do with him. Not a surprise, and not something Janus can blame Roman for. So everything was alright. He now has an excuse to go about his day and stop worrying about Roman all the time.</p>
<p>He sighs and turns away from the door, tears rising to his eyes unbidden. He swipes them away. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t. He’s heard worse.</p>
<p>Janus leaves, planning to curl in the corner of his room and listen to his favorite playlist and try to scrub Roman’s fiery eyes from his mind.</p>
<p>He’ll come back if it’s desperate.</p>
<p>—</p>
<p>
  <em>Just open up your heart.</em>
</p>
<p>Roman is standing in front of Janus’ door.</p>
<p>Well, no, he isn’t. He’s crumpled in a ball at the foot of it, back pressed against the wood, arms around his knees and his head tucked between them. He figures he probably started out standing, but he can’t remember. He’s been here for a while. It’s late–maybe past midnight, maybe not. He doesn’t really care. Everything’s dark. He could conjure a light, but that would take energy he doesn’t have, energy that’s going towards trying to stop his breathing from stumbling over itself and stopping.</p>
<p>In and out. In and out. What are the numbers Virgil always uses? Four, five, eight? No, four, five, six. Does it even start with four? He should remember this. Why is he so <em>stupid?</em></p>
<p>In. Out. In. Out. His breathing is shallow and too deep at the same time. It rasps at the edge of his lungs. He squeezes tighter at his thighs. His throat is choking up. At this rate, he’ll be crying or fainting soon enough. He hopes it’s the second one. He wouldn’t mind just going blank for awhile. Everything’s so loud in his head.</p>
<p>He’s crying now. Great. Never gets what he wants, does he?</p>
<p>He tries to rub away the tears. They keep coming. They drip over his hands and burn like fire. They trickle down his skin and he tries to scratch at them to make them go away. All that happens is irritated red skin.</p>
<p>Something’s itching and tugging inside him. He wants to grab it out of his chest and unspool it until he feels less like he’s trapped in someone else’s skin, thin and papery and about to shatter under his fingers.</p>
<p>In. Out. In. Out.</p>
<p>Breathing is so simple. Why can’t he <em>do</em> it? Why won’t it work? Why does he have to mess everything <em>up</em> like he always does?</p>
<p>He should at least move. He should sink out. He should get away from Janus’ door. What if Janus sees him like this?</p>
<p>Then again, that’s all he wants, isn’t it?</p>
<p>He wants Janus to see him. He wants to look Janus in the face. And he wants to beg for forgiveness.</p>
<p>He wants to–he wants to say sorry.</p>
<p>Say everything.</p>
<p>He wants to tell Janus his name isn’t stupid–it’s beautiful and unique and drips with the mythological implications that Roman loves. God of doorways. Beginnings and endings. Two-faced. There’s room enough for both evil and good in Janus. There can be both friend and foe. He may have ended things for Roman, but he’s also found the beginning of something new, and as a fellow creator Roman can respect the change Janus has wrought.</p>
<p>Janus is wondrous and hilarious and smart and so, so worthy of the place he’s finally received.</p>
<p>And he’s worried about Roman.</p>
<p>And Roman yelled at him.</p>
<p>Because Roman can’t stand the idea–the <em>fact</em>–that he’s going to be replaced. He’s such a coward. He thought he could step down gracefully, but he had to claw his way back to a place he isn’t wanted, because he’s desperate. He’s so desperate. He would do anything to get Janus’ approval. Or Patton’s, or Logan’s, or <em>Thomas’</em>. He would do anything in the world to be loved.</p>
<p>Pathetic, pathetic, <em>pathetic</em>–</p>
<p>Roman curls tighter.</p>
<p>Maybe he won’t mind being a dark side if it gets the knives in his lungs to stop slicing deeper.</p>
<p>Maybe he should just duck out before he causes any more trouble.</p>
<p>Everything’s itching and spinning and his breath comes in short gasps and he can no longer tell if he’s breathing in or out.</p>
<p>He closes his eyes, opens them again, blinks away the tears clustered on his lashes, tries to tighten his grip on his legs so he can finally be crushed into little pieces or feel safe or pretend that someone is there with him, running him through exercises, saying that he’s worthy and loved and still a hero even when he’s crumpled on the ground with a heaving chest and wrinkled pajamas.</p>
<p>Logan would do it. Maybe. If Roman asked. Logan would calm him down, at least. Maybe Virgil would, too.</p>
<p>They’re nice that way.</p>
<p>They’d calm him down.</p>
<p>Then they’d kick him out and say he’s too weak to ever be a prince.</p>
<p>He should leave. Why is he still here? Why can’t he <em>move?</em></p>
<p>Why is everything collapsing around him?</p>
<p>Why is he such a <em>failure?</em></p>
<p>He’s forgotten how to breathe. He’s going to die. He’s going to fall to pieces in this hallway and they’ll find his burned edges tomorrow morning and they’ll kick the ashes into the corners and move on.</p>
<p>He needs to go.</p>
<p>He doesn’t want to go.</p>
<p>He wants to slam his fist into Janus’ door and break it down and collapse around Janus and sob into his shoulder and promise he’ll be better, promise he’ll make things right, if Janus just gives him one more chance and opens up his heart–</p>
<p>Roman takes a long shaky breath.</p>
<p>In. And out. In. And out.</p>
<p><em>You’re doing good</em>, says a voice that might be Logan’s and might be Virgil’s and somehow manages to cut through the haze in his head. <em>Keep breathing.</em></p>
<p>In, out, in, out.</p>
<p>Roman lets his head loll forward. He’s done. He’s exhausted. He wants to curl up under his blankets and sleep forever.</p>
<p>He raises one hand.</p>
<p>He could knock on the door.</p>
<p>Janus is probably asleep.</p>
<p>Janus hates him.</p>
<p>Janus is right to hate him.</p>
<p>He needs to go.</p>
<p>Roman closes his eyes and lets his head thunk against Janus’ door. Cold and stiff and hard and telling him to go.</p>
<p>Roman snaps his fingers and sinks out.</p>
<p>He’ll come back when he’s less desperate.</p>
<p>—</p>
<p>
  <em>I know I could be more clever, and I know I could be more strong.</em>
</p>
<p>Janus is standing in front of Roman’s door.</p>
<p>It wasn’t his idea this time. He’d been perfectly happy avoiding Roman any chance he got. But Virgil had come running into Janus’ room, insisting that Roman had been on-and-off panicking for the past few days, and begging Janus to do something about it.</p>
<p>“I don’t know what you want me to do,” Janus had said. “I’m not exactly the best side for the job, and I’m sure he’d <em>love</em> to see me.”</p>
<p>“Please,” Virgil had said.</p>
<p>Janus had always been weak for Virgil, a fact he abhorred, and Virgil was asking <em>him</em> for help. <em>Janus</em>. Virgil trusted Janus to help Roman, even though Janus had done nothing but help Roman sink to even greater depths.</p>
<p>What was Janus <em>supposed</em> to do, just turn Virgil away?</p>
<p>So now he’s here, knocking twice on Roman’s door, ignoring the nerves that crawl up his throat and tickle under his scales. He hopes Roman isn’t here. He hopes Roman is in a good mood. He hopes Roman is okay.</p>
<p>There’s no answer.</p>
<p>Janus knocks harder.</p>
<p>“Go away,” he hears.</p>
<p>Janus contemplates shifting into Patton or Virgil or someone else. But Roman is remarkably good at catching him in disguise, and the idea just feels <em>wrong</em> to him. Besides, <em>that</em> would certainly get Roman to trust him–once again impersonating one of his closest friends.</p>
<p>Janus knocks once more.</p>
<p>“Go <em>away</em>, Patton,” Roman calls.</p>
<p>Janus opens his mouth to correct Roman and finds that it’s gone too dry for speech.</p>
<p>He settles for knocking again.</p>
<p>“I’m coming!” There are rustling noises. The irritation in Roman’s voice is plain, but so is the fatigue, and so is a crackling, cutting edge that betrays he’s upset.</p>
<p>The door flies open. “I told you, Patton, I’m not coming to dinner–”</p>
<p>Janus waves sheepishly.</p>
<p>Roman stares at Janus for a few very long seconds.</p>
<p>“Roman?” Janus asks. “I…I came to check on you, Virgil says you’ve been upset lately and you seemed rather–volatile when we last spoke. So…I…is everything alright? Would you like to talk?” He laughs to himself. “I know I’m the last person you want to see, but I could fetch Patton, or–”</p>
<p>Roman keeps staring at Janus.</p>
<p>“Roman?” Janus asks again.</p>
<p>And Roman bursts into tears.</p>
<p>He tries to stifle them, if the way he presses a fist to his mouth is any indication, but it doesn’t work. Tears drip from his eyes and he starts sobbing softly. It’s a pathetic sound and it makes Janus’ chest ache.</p>
<p>“Hey,” Janus says frantically, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”</p>
<p>“‘S not your fault,” Roman chokes out between sobs, “just bein’ stupid–”</p>
<p>“You–” Janus gives up on words and reaches out, touching Roman’s shoulder. He expects Roman to throw himself away from the touch. Instead, Roman whines and throws himself <em>forward</em>, latching onto Janus’ clothes and curling up against his chest.</p>
<p>Janus bites back a gasp–when was the last time he’s been hugged? He doesn’t remember–and slowly slides to the floor, bringing Roman with him. He sits in the doorway with Roman practically in his lap, sobbing into his shoulder.</p>
<p>He expects Roman to stop crying soon. He waits for Roman to realize exactly what he’s doing–that he’s in the arms of a side he hates. But Roman doesn’t. He must be really upset.</p>
<p>Janus swallows and shifts into Patton’s form. A cat hoodie settles around his shoulders and he clucks his tongue, running his hands through Roman’s hair.</p>
<p>“C’mon, kiddo,” he says in a voice that’s not his own, “let it out, okay? Let it out.”</p>
<p>Roman makes an unidentifiable wailing noise and pushes at Janus’ shoulder.</p>
<p>Not Patton, then. Janus slouches and lets a purple hoodie form around his arms. It’s surprisingly comfortable. He huffs, his bangs fluttering a bit, and rubs circles in Roman’s back.</p>
<p>“What happened, Princey?” he asks in Virgil’s growling tones. “Who do I need to yell at?”</p>
<p>Roman shakes his head vehemently.</p>
<p>So Janus straightens again–as much as he can, he’s still gay, and why is he making ridiculous jokes when Creativity is crying into his shoulder–and a tie knots itself around his neck.</p>
<p>“Breathe in for four,” he instructs in Logan’s clipped voice. “Hold for seven, out for eight. You are figuratively breaking down and you need to steady yourself.”</p>
<p>Roman flinches away.</p>
<p>Janus switches back to Virgil, because he’s feeling anxious and he’s run out of people and Virgil seems to be the person Roman likes the most.</p>
<p>“Stop,” Roman pleads, looking up into Janus’ face that isn’t Janus’ face. His eyes are red and tears cling to his eyelashes.</p>
<p>“I don’t know what you want,” Janus blurts out. “I can be Thomas, I can get the real Thomas, I can leave you alone–”</p>
<p>“Don’t leave.” Roman clings to him tighter. “Don’t.”</p>
<p>“Thomas, then?” Janus coughs and shifts into Thomas. It’s the hardest one yet and it makes him feel rather bad. He’s never impersonated Thomas before. That’s been an internal rule for him–Thomas is off-limits. But if Roman needs it… “Keep breathing, buddy–”</p>
<p>“Stop!” Roman yells. “Stop <em>pretending</em> to be people!”</p>
<p>“What else am I supposed to do?” Janus asks, his panic probably showing. “What do you want me to be?”</p>
<p>“You!” Roman shakes his head. “<em>You’re</em> who I want, stop hiding and just be <em>you</em>.”</p>
<p>Janus is silent.</p>
<p>Roman starts crying again, making a mess of Janus’ clothes, but he finds himself barely caring.</p>
<p>“Shh,” he says, cupping the back of Roman’s head, remembering all the nights he had to talk Virgil down, the little spider curled up next to him. “Shh, easy, okay? In and out. You’re safe here. I’ve got you.”</p>
<p>“I–” Roman stumbles over his words. “I’m <em>sorry</em>.”</p>
<p>“Don’t talk. Focus on breathing.”</p>
<p>“I’m sorry!” Roman insists. “I-I’m so sorry, Janus, <em>please</em>–”</p>
<p>“I know.” And Janus finds he does, at least right now. “I forgive you.”</p>
<p>“You shouldn’t,” Roman murmurs into Janus’ shoulder.</p>
<p>Janus smirks. “Don’t tell me what to do, Roman.”</p>
<p>“You–” Roman sits up straight, eyes wide. “You–<em>please</em> don’t make me leave–I’m <em>sorry</em>–I can do better, I <em>promise</em>, I know you want to but <em>I</em> don’t want to leave–”</p>
<p>“Leave?” Janus repeats. “Where on earth are you leaving?”</p>
<p>“H-here.” Roman waves a hand, his face crumpling again. “‘Cause I’m <em>bad</em>. I’m the evil twin.”</p>
<p>Janus feels horror clench in the pit of his stomach. “That is not–I said that as an offhand jab! Roman, you’re not evil–and for that matter, neither is Remus–Roman, <em>listen</em> to me.”</p>
<p>Roman has disappeared into Janus’ arms again, shaking like a leaf in the wind.</p>
<p>“Listen,” Janus orders. “You’re not leaving. Remus is not replacing you. I have no idea where you got that.”</p>
<p>“You’re lying,” Roman says miserably. “That’s all you do.”</p>
<p>Janus hisses between his teeth. “That’s not–”</p>
<p>“I know. Sorry.”</p>
<p>“It’s not.” Janus pauses. “Your name is Roman. You are the embodiment of Thomas’ creativity. You like Disney and love to write and want to find Thomas the prince of his dreams.”</p>
<p>Roman shifts a little in Janus’ arms.</p>
<p>“You have a brother named Remus that you aren’t proud of. You are friends with Virgil, who you used to dislike. You often fight with Logan but you care for him nonetheless, and he feels the same for you. You are good friends with Patton.”</p>
<p>“Not anymore,” Roman says.</p>
<p>“You are. Things will work out between you two. He still views you as a close friend.” Janus reached out and swept Roman’s hair off his forehead. “You are Creativity. You are strong, passionate, and indispensable. Everyone here cares deeply about you and forgives you for your mistakes. You are not broken or evil or a dark side.”</p>
<p>Roman shudders.</p>
<p>“I can speak the truth,” Janus says, and it sounds wrong but also so right. “I am not only my lies, and you are not only your mistakes, and I speak the truth when I say that I will <em>never</em> make you leave.”</p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” Roman says. “I’m so sorry.”</p>
<p>Janus sighs. “I’m sorry, too.”</p>
<p>And they fall silent, with nothing left to say, Roman still clutching Janus like a lifeline, Janus rubbing the back of Roman’s neck and bringing out another arm or two to help keep Roman in place. Roman doesn’t flinch. Janus finds this oddly reassuring.</p>
<p>“It’s late,” Janus finally says. “I’m sure you’re tired after that.”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Roman admits. “But I’ve got work to do, I can’t just–”</p>
<p>“You can’t possibly get any work done in this state, unless your creativity is increased by mental breakdowns.” Janus sighs and pulls Roman to his feet, wiping away the last of his tears. “Go to sleep, Roman. I’ll be able to tell if you haven’t.”</p>
<p>“Creepy,” Roman mutters, but he grins shyly and turns to go into his room.</p>
<p>“Roman?” Janus asks before he can talk himself out of it.</p>
<p>“Yes, Nag-gini?”</p>
<p>“Ouch,” Janus says blandly, to convey that he isn’t hurt at all. On the contrary, the nickname makes him feel somewhat bouncy. Ridiculous emotions. “I wanted to…extend an invitation, actually.”</p>
<p>“Really?”</p>
<p>“Yes.” Janus tucks one hand behind his back so he can fidget. “I…my room. Tomorrow afternoon at three or so? Just knock on the door.”</p>
<p>“What’ll we do?” Roman asks.</p>
<p>“Whatever we feel like.” Janus swallows. “Of course it’s perfectly understandable if you wish to spend your time elsewhere, I was only raising the possibility–”</p>
<p>“Calm down, you sound like Logan.” Roman laughs a bit. “‘Course I’ll come. Um–thanks.”</p>
<p>“It’s no trouble,” Janus says smoothly, neatly avoiding mentioning the several weeks he’s spent trying to work up the nerve to talk to Roman. “I’ll see you then. Now get some rest or I’ll send Remus to knock you out.”</p>
<p>Roman laughs again. It sends fluttering happiness through Janus’ chest. He hasn’t heard Roman laugh for weeks.</p>
<p>“Bye,” Roman says, closing the door and waving.</p>
<p>“Goodbye,” Janus says back.</p>
<p>Janus lingers for a few more moments before turning away.</p>
<p>He’ll come back soon enough.</p>
<p>
  <em>—</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I’m waiting for the day you come back and say "Hey, maybe I should change my mind.”<br/></em>
</p>
<p>Roman is standing in front of Janus’ door.</p>
<p>It should be easier this time around. He’s been invited! Janus expects him to knock on this door, and if he hasn’t suddenly decided he hates Roman again, Janus will welcome him in.</p>
<p>What if he <em>has </em>changed his mind?</p>
<p>No, that’s ridiculous. Janus wouldn’t do that. He’s steady and ridiculously one-note–if he says one thing, he sticks by it.</p>
<p>He said Roman was the evil twin.</p>
<p>Then he said Roman wasn’t.</p>
<p>And he’s a liar, a trickster, so Roman can’t figure out which one is right.</p>
<p>One was said during a fit of anger. The other was said to calm Roman down. One is the truth, one is a lie, and Roman knows well enough that he’s very bad at telling when Janus is lying. Maybe Janus only complimented him to manipulate him later–maybe it was all flattery–maybe it was a joke Roman was too stupid to get–</p>
<p>Roman’s mind is spinning. He needs to stop overthinking this or he’ll start panicking again. This is fine. Everything’s fine. Janus invited him and it’s going to be fine–</p>
<p>Unless this is a trap. Maybe everyone’s waiting in there, ready to send Roman to the Dark Side. Or maybe it’s a test, and Janus will interview him, see if he’s realy changed. And he’ll find ouut that Roman hasn’t. That Roman is a failure and always will be.</p>
<p>He doesn’t want those piercing eyes staring him down.</p>
<p>If Janus can sense lies, he’ll know all the things Roman lied about.</p>
<p>Is he lying? Is he telling the truth? Roman runs back and forth in his head, exploring every possibility, but it all comes down to the fact that he doesn’t know Janus at all. Janus could be doing anything with this. He could have changed his mind and Roman could be pushing himself into a space he isn’t wanted. He should just leave before he causes any more trouble–</p>
<p>“Roman?”</p>
<p>Roman flinches back as the door opens.</p>
<p>And Janus smiles. “There you are. Come inside!”</p>
<p>Roman does, hesitantly, still feeling like any moment the other shoe will fall. He tries to look around at Janus’ rom like he’s never seen it before. Janus would surely be mad if he learned Roman had snuck into it before.</p>
<p>“What are we doing?” Roman asks after Janus has settled into his armchair and Roman has perched on the edge of the bed.</p>
<p>“A little bird told me you’re struggling with your ideas,” Janus says, pulling a few books off the shelf. “I figured a change of scenery might help? And I fancy myself rather good at telling tales.”</p>
<p>“Really?” Roman asks.</p>
<p>“Of course.” Janus smirks. “Would I lie to you?”</p>
<p>Roman’s indecision must show on his face, because Janus sinks a little bit and sighs.</p>
<p>“I know you can’t trust me,” Janus says quietly, “but I really am just trying to help.”</p>
<p>“I don’t trust Deceit,” Roman agrees.</p>
<p>“You shouldn’t.” Janus nods. “It’s not wise.”</p>
<p>“I don’t trust Deceit,” Roman says again. “But…I think I could trust Janus. If I got to know him a bit.”</p>
<p>Something flashes across Janus’ face. “Janus doesn’t exist.”</p>
<p>“It’s you.”</p>
<p>“No, it’s not, it’s–” Janus is getting worked up now, and Roman has no idea what he did. “I can’t explain it. Janus isn’t <em>real</em>. Deceit is who I am.”</p>
<p>“Janus is real,” Roman argues, because he doesn’t know Janus that well but even he knows <em>that</em>. </p>
<p>“No it’s not! <em>I’m</em> not!” Janus throws up his hands. “I’m a <em>liar</em>, I’m a <em>fake</em>, I’m a <em>fraud</em>, why don’t you <em>get</em> that?”</p>
<p>“You’re not.” Roman leans forward. “You’re a dork and ridiculously dramatic and you like musicals and you don’t like being wrong and you look good in a suit and you can pull off a hat the way I can’t and you love sarcasm and–” Roman shakes his head vehemently. “That’s not Deceit. That’s <em>Janus</em>. And I’d like to see a little more of him sometimes.”</p>
<p>“Don’t…” Janus pauses. “Just…I’d like not to be Janus. For a while. Janus…I’m scared of that. I’d just like something between Deceit and Janus, if that’s alright. ”</p>
<p>“Dee?” Roman asks. “Does that work?”</p>
<p>“Dee,” Janus repeats. “That’s…” A smile flashes over his face. A real smile. “I like that.”</p>
<p>“Dee, then.” Roman smiles. “Aladdin?”</p>
<p>“Hunchback of Notre Dame.”</p>
<p>“Snow White.”</p>
<p>“Black Cauldron.”</p>
<p>Roman grins wider. “The Incredibles?”</p>
<p>Janus laughs. “Not Disney.”</p>
<p>“Pixar, and we’re doing it.” Roman pauses, searching for words. “Um… you alright, Janus? Are we…good?”</p>
<p>Janus is silent for a long time.</p>
<p>“We could be,” Janus says. “I think we’re getting there.”</p>
<p>“Great,” Roman says. And finds he means it. Things aren’t perfect, but he can get better. He knows that.</p>
<p>Roman can leave some things unspoken for now. Janus hears them anyway.</p>
<p>And he’ll come back to them when he’s ready.</p>
<p>
  <em>—</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I was out on the town so I came to your window last night.<br/></em>
</p>
<p>Janus is standing in front of Roman’s door.</p>
<p>It’s open, so he slips inside, sits next to Roman on the bed, and stares at the swirls of paint across the ceiling. They look like the currents of an ocean, the sweep of galaxies across the sky.</p>
<p>“Everything’s changing,” Roman says.</p>
<p>“Yes,” Janus says.</p>
<p>“I don’t like change.”</p>
<p>“Nobody does.”</p>
<p>“This…this is good change, though.” Roman pauses. “Right?”</p>
<p>Janus thinks of the discussions they’ve had. The way Thomas is really trying to put himself first when necessary. Patton’s cookies, Logan’s debates, Remus’ little octopus plushies that he gifted them all after getting accepted. Virgil, who gave Janus a quick “sorry” over breakfast cereal, and somehow that said everything that needed to be said.</p>
<p>He thinks of Roman. How wrong he was about Roman. Roman is not broken and never has been–he simply stumbled, and with help, he is rising again. He smiles more often. He sings along to Disney movies. He laughs at Patton’s puns. He’s started reading wit Logan in the afternoons. He’s even sparring with his brother, and it seems less vindictive than it used to be, as if it’s only a playfight now.</p>
<p>Roman is happier. Not happy, not perfect, but better.</p>
<p>And Janus feels…a little better, too.</p>
<p>“It’s good change,” Janus agrees.</p>
<p>“You want to do some Shakespeare?” Roman offers.</p>
<p>“I was thinking Dante’s Inferno,” Janus responds, like he always does.</p>
<p>“Boring,” Roman says like always, wrinkling his nose. “Disney?”</p>
<p>“Disney,” Janus agrees.</p>
<p>“I’ll get it ready, Janus–” Roman pauses. “Um…is Janus good today?”</p>
<p>Janus thinks about it. Because Janus has connotations and weighty moments and Roman’s laughter still rings in his ears. He doesn’t want to be Deceit. He’s scared to be Janus. He wants a little space in between, to find out who he is without the lies, to find out how he could be…more. More than his job. Maybe a friend, maybe a confidant, maybe somebody worthy.</p>
<p>Janus could be that. If he wanted.</p>
<p>Some days Janus crawls over his skin, wrong and itchy and reminding him of how much of a lie he is. Today it settles in place–strange and a little new, but not bad. A change. Not a bad change.</p>
<p>Sometimes things need to change.</p>
<p>Sometimes you need to talk a leap of faith and knock on the door.</p>
<p>“Janus is alright.” Janus smiles. “Janus is good, actually.”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Roman agrees, smiling back, “he is.”</p>
<p>The door is open. It’s remained so for weeks. And even if it wasn’t, Janus would find the courage to knock. Because he knows Roman would do the same for him.</p>
<p>He’ll always come back.</p>
<p>He’ll always try again.</p>
<p>
  <em>—</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Now I’m causing a scene,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>thinking you need a reason to smile.</em>
</p>
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